Switching
by Cat2000
Summary: Due to the interference of a demon with very specific powers, Sam and Dean are sucked into the plots of various scary movies – where they have to survive the fates of the characters they take the place of
1. Chapter One: Waxworks

**Switching**

**Chapter One – Waxworks**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic. Nor do I own anything from House of Wax. I guess the general plot of these fics/series belong to me, though

**Summary:** Due to the interference of a demon with very specific powers, Sam and Dean are sucked into the plots of various scary movies – where they have to survive the fates of the characters they take the place of. In this chapter, Sam Winchester takes the place of Wade in House of Wax

**Warning(s):** Violence; horror; some swearing; spoilers up to at least the first season of Supernatural; spoilers for House of Wax

**Author's Note:** I got the idea for this series after watching House of Wax for the second time. Basically, I wanted Wade (played by Jared Padalecki) to have a chance of living – so this series was born.

So… enjoy!

* * *

Sam stumbled into the motel room, wincing with the pain from the scratches. "Ow…" It was kind of difficult to walk without even a slight wince, and he wondered if he should have suggested going to the hospital. He hadn't been the _only_ one hurt by the attack of the demon.

_But I know Dean would never accept that… He _hates_ having to go to the hospital. Has done ever since he was a child._

"You all right, Sammy?" Dean asked, reaching a hand out to help his brother – despite the trembling that had overtaken his own body. As usual, he was more worried about his brother than his own health.

"I'm fine," Sam said, trying not to worry Dean even more. What Dean had said to him still echoed through his mind. He didn't want to cause his brother any more grief or pain. Anything he _could_ do to avoid that, he would. "I'm thinking we both need rest, though," he added. "We need to wait before going after that demon again."

"Speak for yourself." Despite his words, though, Dean all but flopped down on one of the beds. "Want me to take a look at those scratches?"

"It didn't get me as bad as you," Sam answered, settling down on the other bed. "I just wish we'd been able to find more information on that demon. It's like it didn't even _exist_ until a couple of weeks ago."

"Maybe it's one of those demons that show up only every five hundred years or so?" Dean suggested. He then yawned widely. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat. I feel like I could sleep for hours."

Sam frowned, unable to help feeling worried. It was very rare for Dean to actually _admit_ to a weakness. Since he just had, it meant that he was probably hurting worse than Sam thought. "Think I could take a look at _your_ scratches?" Sam requested. "How bad are they?" He didn't bother trying to keep the worry out of his voice. Dean wouldn't believe that he was just asking casually anyway.

"Put it this way, Sam," Dean answered. "If there was something seriously wrong with me? You'd know about it."

Sam wasn't so sure about that. However, he was beginning to feel quite tired himself. And Dean didn't seem _too_ bad. "Just… you know, wake me if you need anything," he mumbled, slumping back onto the bed and closing his eyes. Somewhere deep inside, he felt that it was probably a bad thing to do.

But he just couldn't bring himself to really care.

"Sure… Whatever," Dean said. "See you in the morning." He leaned back and closed his eyes.

Sam closed his own eyes, and, within a few moments, was asleep.

* * *

Sam opened his eyes, and blinked a few times as he found himself standing beside a truck. It was dusk, and there was a man with dark hair and wild-looking eyes staring at him. "Uh… Are you all right?"

_Huh?_ Sam frowned. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep – which kind of implied that he was dreaming. Apart from the fact that it didn't _feel_ like a normal dream at all. Usually, a person didn't know it when they were dreaming.

"Hey," the man said, watching Sam with eyebrows raised.

_Well, I might as well play along with this dream,_ Sam decided. "Sure… I'm all right. So, are we going?" At least, he assumed they were going somewhere. _If this is a dream, why aren't there any girls in it?_

"Wade?"

Sam glanced towards the car, and raised his eyebrows as he saw a girl with light brown, wavy hair watching him. For some reason, she was wearing what appeared to be a man's vest. _Ok… I spoke too soon._ Hardly thinking about what he was doing, Sam smiled reassuringly at her. "I won't be long." _If this was _Dean's_ dream, I'm sure that he'd opt to stay with the girl._

"Yeah, it won't take long to find that fan belt." The man nodded to Sam, and then turned, heading in the direction of the house, apparently expecting Sam to follow him.

Sam tended to have a good judgement of character – given what he and his brother did, he really had to. Something struck him as kind of… off about the man. Almost like that weird hunting family who had kidnapped him. But it was possible that he could be mistaken. And there wasn't much else he could really do.

_Unless I try to change the dream, of course…_ As he followed the man, Sam attempted to concentrate on the mental image of a forest clearing. However, he wasn't able to hold the image – it kept dissolving.

_I really shouldn't be following this man…_ However, Sam's legs wouldn't obey his brain's orders to stop walking forward and go back to the car. He seemed to be almost stuck – powerless to do anything other than watch everything play out.

The man opened the front door, and stepped inside. "What are you waiting for?" he called back over his shoulder when Sam hesitated, still trying to figure out how to get out of the situation.

_Couldn't my _brother_ at least be here?_ Sam wondered, even as his legs took him through the front door after the man. He was pretty sure that Dean would be able to figure out what was going on.

"The bathroom's right down the hall," the man said to Sam. "I'll get that fan belt for you." He started moving off.

_Bathroom?_ Sam frowned as he started heading in the direction the man had pointed out – again, his feet were moving automatically without conscious thought. That wasn't too strange in a dream – but the fact that Sam was aware of it _was_ strange.

_Is this a new level to my psychic abilities? Am I now taking the place of someone who's gonna die?_ Sam wondered. _That girl called me Wade, didn't she…?_ He didn't really like the idea of experiencing death while he was stuck in someone else's body. _Whoever this guy is, he's an idiot… Didn't anyone tell him not to talk to strangers? Let alone go into the house of one…_

After using the restroom, Sam's legs – instead of heading down the stairs – led him into a room. He sat down at a desk, and his hands started picking up things of his own accord, including what appeared to be some kind of foetus inside a glass box.

_What kind of sick bastard lives here?_

Whoever Sam had taken over the body of seemed to be possessed of an unhealthy curiosity. Sam made his way into another room, where there was a framed certificate with cracked glass on the wall. Behind a curtain, there was a bed with straps on and all sorts of medical instruments on a trolley beside it.

Sam couldn't help shuddering a bit. It reminded him too much of Doctor Ellicott's surgery, and what had happened after that. The good thing, though, was that he seemed to be able to control the form now – or starting to, at least.

And then, the lights went out.

"Shit," Sam muttered. _It's like I'm stuck in a really bad horror movie or something._ Sam wasn't a hunter for nothing, though. As soon as his eyes got used to the dark, he felt around on the trolley, and grabbed what felt like a scalpel.

_I'd really prefer a gun… But I don't recall seeing one of those._

Sam felt his way along the wall, holding the scalpel in his other hand. He really wished that he'd paid more attention to the happenings in horror movies. Well, most of the time, his _life_ was a horror movie.

Sam tried the door, and then let out a groan. _It's locked… Maybe if I kick it…_ He started to do so, but then hesitated.

Sam spun round, and then kicked out with his right foot. Someone grunted, and Sam heard something go clattering across the floor. Sam could see a figure moving around on the floor. There seemed to be something wrong with its face. If Sam didn't know better, he'd have said that its face seemed to be falling off.

"Now that's just disgusting…" _Wait until Dean hears about what's been happening in my dream._

The figure was standing up now. Throwing back its head, it let out a sound that seemed to almost be a howl, and then leaped at Sam. The force of the shove knocked him back violently against the door.

Somewhere from outside, the sound of a horn echoed.

Sam lost his concentration for a moment, and the other person was able to knock him to the ground. Sam winced with the force of it, and was only dimly aware of the scissors being grabbed by the other person.

Sam still held the scalpel in his hand, though. As the thing stabbed the scissor blades down towards his shoulder, Sam stabbed upwards. The shock jarred up his arm, and he felt something wet spill over his skin even as a scream came from the person. It was still trying to stab Sam, though, and he was concerned with keeping the sharp blades from piercing anything vital.

"Get _off_ me, you bastard!" Sam managed to stab the scalpel into the person again, and then he hit its arm, sending the scissors flying again. As the person scrambled to get the weapon, Sam got to his feet, holding the bloody scalpel in front of him.

For a moment, hunter and crazed psycho stared at each other.

Then, the man ran, half-stumbling, half-walking, until Sam heard him drop down somewhere.

For a moment, Sam just stood there, his grip still tight around the scalpel. _Is he gone…?_ Finally, he decided that the person must have fled – so Sam turned, and kicked at the door. A sudden weakness in his leg alerted him to the fact that he may not have escaped totally unscathed. "Shit…" He tore a strip off his shirt, and tied it around the cut in his leg. _I'm pretty sure that creep didn't get me – so I must have hurt myself when I fell._ Sam wasn't going to follow the freak, so he used his other foot to kick the door in.

After the second kick, the door splintered, and Sam was able to get out. He could hear the sound of a vehicle revving outside, and, for a moment, wondered about the girl who'd been there. _Now how do I get out of here…?_ It took him a few moments to orientate himself in the darkness, and then he headed down the stairs, hoping that he wasn't about to run into the other crazed psycho.

There didn't seem to be anyone around, and Sam wasn't sure if he was relieved or worried about that. He wasn't going to let his guard down though, so even as he headed towards the front door, Sam held his scalpel up, and kept glancing around. He opened the front door as quietly as he could, and stepped out.

The breeze hit Sam like a slap in his face, and he shivered a little. After closing the door behind him, he glanced around.

There didn't seem to be anyone around. Sam could see the truck a short distance away. It looked as though there'd been some kind of accident. After glancing around a bit, he headed over to the truck. One of the windows appeared to have been smashed, and, as the door seemed to be locked, Sam stuck his hand through, and unlocked it that way.

_There might be a better weapon here…_

Sam felt around on the bottom of the truck. His fingers closed around something smooth and hard, and he pulled it out, frowning slightly as he noticed that it was a cell phone. _Does this belong to that girl…?_ He shrugged, and tucked it away someplace safe. _If I find her, I'll give it back to her._ Sam started down the path in the direction of the town, feeling that he might be able to discover something of what was going on.

All of the shops appeared to be closed. Sam heard the sound of screaming, and he ran over to where he thought it was coming from.

There wasn't anyone on the street, but Sam could see a church ahead of him. After glancing around, he approached the building, and then pushed the door open before stepping inside.

Sam's first reaction was to leave the church immediately, since there seemed to be a funeral going on. However, even though he could hear the sound of music and people crying, something seemed wrong. The priest apparently taking the service was staring right at Sam – but he wasn't saying anything, wasn't even moving.

Sam hesitated, and then he stepped forward – nearly tripping over something. "Shit!" he yelped before he really thought about it. The next moment, though, he forgot his exclamation as he saw what was in front of him.

It was a severed arm.

"Oh, God…" Sam put a hand to his mouth, feeling like he was going to be sick. He looked around, a horrible suspicion growing inside his mind. That suspicion was only confirmed as he heard the buzzing of flies and saw spiders making webs in people's hair.

Sam took a deep breath, and then reached out to nudge one of the people. As he realised that it was made out of wax, he pulled his hand back. _That arm looks like it's been broken off a real person, though… Does that mean that they're all… _people_? Covered in wax?_ The man really _was_ a sick bastard.

Sam left the arm where it was, and then backed out of the church, shivering a bit. The dream was more like a nightmare now – though since he'd been hurt, Sam wasn't going so much for the whole dream theory.

_That girl… Something might have happened to her. If I can, I have to save her._ As he left the church, though, Sam saw a sign for a House of Wax. _Waxworks museum? That always freaked me out when I was younger._ Still, if that girl had been taken anywhere to be 'waxed' – well, it was more likely to be in a wax museum than anywhere else.

Sam headed in the direction of the house. Putting his spare hand in his pockets found a lighter, a penknife, and a wallet – nothing that would be of any use in a fight. Opening up the wallet, Sam found a picture of himself and the girl from the car, hugging each other.

_Girlfriend…_

Glancing up again, Sam saw that the building in front of him didn't look completely right. He used the penknife to scrape the wall lightly, and found out that the entire place seemed to be made out of wax.

_It must have taken _months_ to create this place…_ Sam pushed open the doors and stepped through. Since he didn't have a clue where he was, he might as well play the events out to their conclusion.

Sam glanced around, taking in the dim lighting of the room he was in. There were quite a lot of wax figures, and he couldn't help shuddering a bit. _I'm guessing they were all people once…_ It was tempting to just set fire to the whole place – but one lighter probably wasn't going to be enough. Besides, flames would – more than likely – draw the attention of whoever was killing and waxing the people.

Sam made his way further into the room, passing the bar with barely a glance at the wax figures dancing together. He was listening intently for any sound that would suggest someone was around.

As the door of the House of Wax was shoved open, Sam whirled round, the scalpel blade aimed in the direction of the entrance.

"Wade? Carly?"

Sam lowered the scalpel as a young man came into the room, wearing a baseball cap. He looked around, seemingly more annoyed than jumpy – which suggested that he wasn't aware of what was really going on in the town.

_I suppose he's someone who knows the person whose body I'm in…_ Sam stepped forward, holding the scalpel at his side. "Hey."

The other man jerked slightly. Then, he laughed a bit. "Wade, you scared me." He frowned. "Hey, man. You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam replied, forcing a laugh that didn't sound right even to his ears. "Just, you know – hit my head. What are you doing here?"

"Paige and Blake wanted some time alone," the guy answered. "So, er, Nick and I came to pick you and Carly up. Where _is_ Carly, by the way?" He looked around, stepping further into the room. "Wow, this is… amazing."

"Yeah, that's one word for it," Sam muttered. _Just not the right one…_ "You see anyone around while you were coming here?"

"No," the guy replied. "Man, it's like the whole town's deserted or something. Even the gas station doesn't have anyone inside. It's a ghost town. You didn't answer – where's Carly?"

Sam opened his mouth. However, the guy's eyes suddenly widened – barely perceptibly, but it was enough. Sam turned round, swinging the scalpel up and into a defensive position.

The blade glanced off of Sam's shoulder, and he couldn't help gasping a bit with the pain. "Son of a bitch!" He stabbed out with the scalpel, but the person seemed to have got better with the last fight, and he dodged out of reach.

"Wade!" the other guy yelled.

"Get out of here!" Sam ordered, even as he wrestled with the other person. "Get the others and get the _hell_ out of this town!" He didn't dare take his attention off of who he was fighting to check that the other guy was following his direction.

The other person was strong. If the wax figures were anything to go by, he'd had a lot of practice at killing people.

Sam, however, fought supernatural things on a pretty much daily basis. Not to mention that he was pretty smart. Compared to everything he'd been through, one psychopath wasn't too big a deal.

After a few moments, Sam was able to get the knife off the man. He then kicked him with his good foot, shoving the psycho back. He lost his balance, and fell down the stairs.

Sam hardly spared a glance in his direction. He figured that the girl wasn't in the House of Wax, and he'd already sent the other guy away. But as well as Carly, there was Nick – whoever he was – to find.

Besides, the person Sam had fought might be a psychopath – but he was probably human. The police were the ones who should deal with him.

Sam directed a glance in the direction of the basement – just to check that the man wasn't about to come after him again. Since he was still just lying there, Sam walked over to the door and let himself out. _That wasn't the same guy who took me – or Wade – into that house, so I guess that the other guy's somewhere else, possibly with Carly…_

Sam stepped out into the darkness. After a moment's consideration, he took the lighter out of his pocket, and put the flame up.

The light didn't reach _that_ far, but Sam didn't have anything better on him. He looked around for a moment, considering the best course of action to take. Truth was, he didn't even know if Carly and Nick were still alive. It would probably be better to get the ones he _was_ almost certain about to safety, and then come back to see if he could find Carly and Nick.

Now if only I can find the way out of this town without running into either of those guys again…

Sam started walking, moving quickly and almost soundlessly. He'd had plenty of practice at this, after all. What wasn't lit up by the flame from the lighter, he could just about make out as his eyes got used to the dark.

As Sam continued along the street, he kept glancing around, keeping his attention on what was going on around him as well. Just in case there was any sign of either Carly or Nick.

Sam managed to get to the edge of the town, and was slightly annoyed – but not very surprised – to see that the guy who had come into the House of Wax, as well as two other people – who Sam took to be Paige and Blake – standing there.

"What are you doing here?!" Sam demanded. "I told you to leave!"

"Dalton seemed to think that Carly and Nick might be in danger," the girl – Paige, probably – said. "We… Well, we thought that we should come and see what's going on."

"Besides, you'd probably need help anyway," Blake put in.

Sam smirked. "I can handle myself," he replied. _Probably _way_ better than you guys can,_ he added silently. "You guys should really just hop in whatever vehicle you have with you and get the _hell_ out of this place. I don't need to let any _more_ victims fall to this… insane town." Actually, there were a lot more words he could come up with to describe the town.

But most of them weren't suitable for a lady's ears.

"_Victims_?" Dalton repeated, his voice a little high.

"What's going on?" Blake demanded. "What do you mean? What's going on in this town? Where are Carly and Nick?"

"Look, you all need to _leave_," Sam said. "Right now! Trust me; it's the best thing for all concerned." _Is this the sort of thing that the person I am here would say? Oh, well. It doesn't really matter,_ he decided.

"Look, if Carly's in danger, we have to help her," Paige responded. "She's our friend – we can't abandon her."

"Speak for yourself," Dalton muttered. "That town gives me the creeps. I'd _prefer_ to leave. What?" he added defensively as Paige and Blake both stared at him.

"Dalton's right," Sam said. "You should all leave, right now. I'll go look for Carly and Nick, and bring them out of the town and to safety, all right?"

"Wade…" Paige started.

"That's not Wade," Blake interrupted. He stared hard at Sam. "At least, you're not _acting_ like you usually do. You're… I don't know. Tougher, I guess."

_I'm assuming that means Wade's something of a wimp…_ Sam shook his head slightly to clear those thoughts. It wasn't the time for that. "Look, I don't give a _damn_ what any of you think. Truthfully, though, you'd all just slow me down. I can't waste unneeded time on protecting any of you." It was harsh – but it was also the truth.

"Fine," Blake said shortly. Then, he turned to Paige and Dalton. "Are you two coming?" Without waiting for an answer, he stormed off.

"Make sure you don't stick around!" Sam called after them. Once they were out of sight, he turned, and then paused, squinting with one hand above his eyes.

_Is that… _fire

Sam hesitated only a moment. Then, he was racing into the town. He could hear sirens coming from the opposite direction, and couldn't help feeling slightly worried and not a little bothered by what he could see and hear.

* * *

Sam approached the Sheriff a little hesitantly, glancing a moment towards the ambulance. But he couldn't see who was in it, so he just continued towards the man.

_I probably shouldn't have stayed out of sight all that time, but… I figured it was probably better, given the firemen and policemen running around all over the place._

"Hi," Sam said to the Sheriff. "I'm Wade; I'm looking for my girlfriend, Carly. I'm worried that something might have happened to her…" It only just occurred to him that he didn't know Wade's last name. Or Carly's, for that matter.

Oh, well.

The Sheriff regarded Sam with some suspicion for a moment. "They seemed to think you were probably dead."

"We got separated," Sam replied, giving his best innocent smile. "Is she all right? What about Nick?"

"They're both pretty shaken up," the Sheriff answered, nodding towards the ambulance. "Nick got a knife in his leg; your girlfriend had her finger cut off. Poor kids," he added. Then, he looked sharply at Sam. "What about the others who were with you?"

"I sent them off home. I'm sure you'll be able to get hold of their numbers to contact them." With that, Sam headed over to the ambulance. Carly and Nick were talking, so he knocked lightly on the door, and cleared his throat.

Carly glanced up, and her eyes widened. "Wade?!" She immediately reached for his hand, looking like she was about to cry. "I thought you were dead…"

"So I've heard," Sam replied, lightly squeezing Carly's hand and nodding towards Nick. "I also heard that you two managed to get yourselves into trouble as well. Honestly, can't leave you alone for five minutes…" He shook his head and smiled slightly.

"Yeah, well, I'd like to see you do any better with two psychos wanting to turn you to wax," Nick replied, but without heat.

"Will you ride with us to the hospital?" Carly asked. "Someone should let our parents know what's happened, since I don't have my cell phone on me anymore…"

"Oh, really?" Sam smirked slightly, and took said phone out of his pocket. "I rescued it while I was looking for a way to understand what was going on…" Even as he spoke, though, Sam had the strangest feeling – like his spirit was being tugged out of his body.

No, not out of _his_ body… Out of Wade's.


	2. Chapter Two: Zombies!

**Switching**

**Chapter Two – Zombies!**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic. I also don't own anything from Resident Evil. I guess the plot of this fic belongs to me, though

**Summary:** It's Dean's turn to enter a horror movie…

**Warning(s):** Descriptions of strong violence; spoilers for most of Supernatural; spoilers for Resident Evil; horror

**Author's Note:** It's chapter two of Switching… finally. Apologies to those of you who have been waiting for this. It was rather difficult to figure out what horror film to use this time. Thank you for being patient.

And thank you to all of those who have read and reviewed this fic so far. It's so nice to open my e-mails and find a review. It's also nice to see the people who have put this on Story Favourites/Alerts – and thanks to people who have read it even if they haven't reviewed.

And I will stop babbling now and get on with the fic.

* * *

Dean was finding it really difficult to get to sleep. He wanted – _needed_ – rest, but he was actually so worn out that he felt too restless to relax.

Finally, Dean sat up, rubbing a little at his arm. He glanced sideways at his brother, and couldn't help feeling a little envious at how quickly Sam had managed to fall asleep. _Then again… I don't think the demon got him as badly._ Still, Sam being asleep meant that Dean could wrap up the rest of his wounds.

Without Sam worrying over him like a mother hen.

Giving a slight sigh, Dean got off the bed, and headed over to the bags. He removed his shirt, and then went through one of the backpacks until he found a roll of bandages. He pulled one of the longer bandages off, and carried it into the adjoining bathroom with him along with the remains of his torn shirt.

Dean ran some water, and soaked the material of his shirt under it. He then used that to wipe the scratches across his chest clean before doing his best to bandage them. _Damn it… I should have made Sam stay awake to help me with this,_ he thought. Dean gritted his teeth, attempting to push away the pain and force himself not to cry out.

It didn't help that the tiredness was falling over him again like a blanket.

Dean merely dropped the remains of his shirt into the bin, and then stumbled out of the bathroom, switching the light off as he did so, but leaving the door wide open.

Dean only took a moment to check that Sam's breathing was all right before flopping down onto his own bed. Within moments, he was fast asleep.

* * *

Dean gave a yelp of pain as he felt something sharp puncture his hand. Without thinking about it, he kicked out with his foot without taking the time to open his eyes, and heard a sort of whining mewl before a dull thump.

Opening his eyes, Dean took a look round, and then thought that maybe he would have been better off keeping them closed.

_What the _hell_ is going on here?!_

Dean was sitting on what appeared to be a metal pipe. His body was aching from a number of injuries, and there were people standing a little way below him, all reaching up to try and grab him. Most of them appeared to be injured in some way, and had pale skin and wide, staring eyes.

_Oh, shit…_

Glancing down, Dean found that he was holding a gun in both hands. As another zombie started trying to climb up the metal pipe towards him, Dean levelled the weapon, aiming for its head, and pulled the trigger.

And then cursed when he heard the click from the empty barrel.

_Ah, damn… You'd think that I would be able to have a weapon that's of _some_ use._ Then again, a gun wasn't likely to work on zombies anyway – probably not even if it was filled with rock salt.

Dean reacted without thinking as the zombie reared back to sink its teeth into one of his wounds. His hands shot out, and he grabbed the creature, twisting its neck round. There was a sickening crack as the bone broke, and Dean tossed the suddenly limp body in the direction of some of the other zombies.

Much to his dismay, the zombies didn't even look at the body. They just kept trying to get to Dean, moaning and clawing.

Dean glanced down at the useless gun in his hand, and released his breath in a heavy sigh. _This is not good._ He edged back a little, but the wall behind him prevented him from being able to really go anywhere.

_This is one hell of a nightmare…_

Dean's eyes fell on what appeared to be a small passage in the wall almost opposite him. He frowned, considering a moment, trying to come up with some kind of plan. _This situation is hopeless… And where's Sammy anyway?_ Struck by an awful thought, Dean squinted at the rest of the zombies as he kicked out at the nearest zombie to him.

Much to Dean's relief, he couldn't see Sam's face in amongst the zombies. But if he wasn't careful, he'd end up becoming a zombie himself.

If he wasn't halfway there already…

As another zombie reached for him, Dean snapped its neck, and tossed it over the side. This position was an advantage, since only one could come up to him at a time. But he couldn't stay where he was. Eventually, he would end up tiring himself out, and then the zombies would be free to feed on him.

_I've gotta get away from here before that happens…_

Dean gritted his teeth, letting out a slight gasp as his wounds pained him as he forced himself to stand up. _Should have paid more attention to gymnastics, really… But who'd have thought I'd have to jump across a huge gap with a whole load of zombies out for my blood?_

Dean let out a yell as he felt something sharp dig into his ankle, and he responded with a kick that snapped the zombie's head right back. Then, before any more of them could come after him, he leaped for the opposite wall, and just about managed to hook his fingers into the gap and pull himself up.

Dean winced and couldn't help letting out a few choice swear words at the straining of his wounds. With some difficulty, he pulled himself up and into the gap, and then just sat there for a moment, gasping a little.

_As far as I know, I'm still me… But surely that can't last for long, since I got bitten and scratched by the zombies…_ Dean watched with disgust as a couple of the zombies went after the blood that had fallen from his wounds, while the rest of them tried to reach up to him, presumably to try and get more blood.

Dean watched the zombies for a moment, trying to catch his breath. There were what felt like cold fingers drifting through his mind, and already he could feel the beginnings of the hunger for blood.

Or maybe it was just his imagination…

_How did I get here?_ Dean wondered, even as he began crawling along the passage. _I fell asleep; so naturally, this has to be a dream – right?_ Trouble was, it felt more real than any dream Dean had had before, even his nightmares.

Sammy wasn't the only one who had nightmares…

_Besides… If it's a dream, surely I'd be able to dream up a machine gun or something…_ Just for the hell of it, Dean closed his eyes and tried to imagine up a machine gun. He wasn't too surprised when it didn't work, but _was_ rather frustrated. _Did that demon have something to do with this? And where's Sam?_

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard something thumping along the ground behind him. He stopped and slowly turned his head, getting ready to fight whoever was following him.

Except there was no one there.

Dean frowned, and then took note of the fact that he had a bag slung over his shoulder. _How come I didn't notice that before?_ The question wasn't all that important, though. What _was_ important was that there might be some kind of weapon in the bag.

As he sat back slightly, Dean gasped, and had to grit his teeth. _These wounds need to be cleaned and bandaged…_ Unfortunately, the bag didn't contain any bandages. It didn't contain any weapons, either.

Instead, there was what appeared to be a circuit board – one which looked similar to the sort found in computers. It was much bigger, though.

_Huh… What's this for?_ Dean wondered. There was a prominent-looking switch on the board, and, for a moment, Dean was hit with the urge to press it – just to see what would happen. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done that. He even got the urge to with switches labelled clearly DANGER – DO NOT PRESS.

Dean finally decided not to press the switch. A thump from behind him made it clear that he wasn't going to be free of the zombies for long. Quickly pushing the board back into the bag, he slung it back over his shoulder, and started making his way down the passage as quickly as he could.

_I've _got_ to find a way out of this…_

* * *

It didn't take long for the passage to end, and then Dean dropped out onto the floor of a corridor that seemed to be going between rooms that seemed to be some kind of weird laboratories.

Which all looked like they had been hit by bombs.

Dean began walking down the corridor, glancing around as he did so. He had no way of knowing which the right way to go was. All he had to guide him were his instincts – which were actually pretty well honed.

If only he knew exactly where he was and what he was doing there…

Dean suddenly heard the sound of a gun being fired, and he jerked, immediately ready for a fight. Ahead of him, he could see a man running down the corridor. He didn't look like a zombie – at the very least, the man was moving in the opposite direction that Dean was coming in.

Dean sped up his steps a little, fully intending to catch up with the man and demand an explanation. However, as he passed the door the man had just come out of, he heard what seemed to be shouting coming from inside the room.

Against his better judgement, Dean paused, and put his ear to the door – although he was still on his guard against the appearance of any more zombies. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he heard what appeared to be someone yelling, "Kill her!"

_Kill who…?_

From what Dean could tell, there seemed to be at least three people in the room – there was a lot of shouting going on. As he stood there, trying to figure out what was going on, the thought of the weird circuit board slowly began intruding on his mind – as well as the thought of the switch…

_I guess now it's time to see just what this switch is for…_

Dean took the board out of the bag again, and studied it for a moment. Then, he pressed the switch.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Dean heard a click that seemed to come from the door. He frowned, and immediately took a step back, getting ready to fight if he needed to.

The door flew open, and three people came out – two women and one man. They would probably have been running, but the dark-haired woman was clearly wounded, and looked like she was exhausted. She was slumped down slightly between the other woman and the man.

Dean took another step back. Sure, he hadn't heard of zombies working together before – but that didn't mean it couldn't happen.

Could he take on three at once?

"Kaplan?" The man was staring at Dean, his eyes wide, and his face pale – as if he were in shock.

Dean relaxed fractionally. _Those zombies I escaped from didn't seem intelligent enough to form coherent words,_ he thought. He wasn't going to let his guard down completely, though. Then, he frowned. _Kaplan?_ "Who?"

"It's the virus," the blonde woman stated. "It must be getting to him."

"Virus?" Dean echoed. "You mean those zombies? I hate to split hairs – but that's not caused by a virus."

"It's the T-Virus." The man was staring at Dean warily. "Remember? The Red Queen went homicidal and killed everyone down here to prevent the virus from escaping. We've discovered that there's an antivirus. It could help you – if it's not too late already, of course." He seemed just as distrustful of Dean as Dean was of him and the two women.

_There's an antivirus?_ Dean wondered. It could be a trick, of course – but the severity of his wounds suggested that he wasn't going to have long before he turned into a zombie as well. _The antivirus is gonna be my only chance – so I may as well stick with them, at least for now._ "Well, what are we waiting for?" he asked. "We'd better go."

"You should have killed me," the dark-haired woman mumbled.

"It's not going to happen, Rain," the other woman answered. She looked at Dean. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Got any bandages, or any kind of material? I'm losing a lot of blood here."

"We already lost our medic…" Rain muttered.

The other woman and the man began helping Rain down the corridor. Dean followed them, glancing around warily in case there were any more zombies.

All the while, he could feel himself becoming colder and colder, both in body and in mind…

* * *

By the time they got to the train, Dean was beginning to wonder if he was even going to make it or not. He was stumbling constantly with every step, and exhaustion was threatening to overwhelm him. Several times, the other man – whose name Dean had picked up as being Matt – had tried to help him, but Dean had rebuffed him every time.

Dean's stomach turned as he saw the torn apart body lying half on the train, a silver box of test tubes with spirals filled with blue and green liquid next to him and splattered with blood.

Being used to death and vicious creatures, Dean wasn't bothered by the dead body. What bothered him was his own reaction to the body, and how tempting the smell of blood was becoming to him…

"Take Rain and get onto the train," the blonde woman told Dean and Matt. "I'll get the antivirus." Without waiting for a reply, she stalked over to the dead body.

Dean would have gone after her, but he was worried about what he would do once he was close enough to the dead body to touch. Instead, he turned to Matt. "You listen to me. If I turn – don't hesitate. You'll have to kill me. Otherwise, I'll kill all of you. Understand me?" Dean fixed Matt with an intense stare.

"No one's going to die," Matt replied, half-carrying, half-dragging Rain onto the train.

Dean paused, and turned in time to see the other woman cut the zombie's head off with an axe. Realising that they didn't have much time, Dean quickly stepped onto the train, hoping that they weren't going to be too late.

_Even on here, we're not going to be completely safe… Especially since Rain's obviously been wounded by the zombies._

After a few moments of searching, Dean was relieved to find a machine gun. He let the bag drop lightly to the floor, and picked up the gun, checking that there were bullets in the chamber. He'd worry about dealing with the recoil while wounded when the time came.

Dean was aware of the other woman entering the train, and of the train being started up. He didn't turn until Matt walked over. "You've got to have the antivirus."

Dean extended one of his arms, and watched without a word as Matt injected the antivirus into his arm. He had no idea of how long a time frame he had had, but Dean hoped that it wasn't yet too late.

Dean could hear Rain and the other woman talking, but he didn't pay any attention to their conversation. Instead, he asked Matt in a low voice, "That man who was killed outside the train. Do you know what happened to him?"

Matt frowned a little at Dean as he put the needle gun away again. "Spence, you mean?" he questioned. "He was killed by… well, it was one of the experiments here. According to the Red Queen, it was what happened when the T-virus was injected into living tissue. When it feeds on new DNA, it mutates."

"Oh, great…" Dean sighed. "As if things aren't bad enough…" He left the wall, and moved over to stand next to Rain, ready to shoot her if need be. It wasn't the time to make mistakes or be moved by sentimentality.

"We don't have long," the blonde woman said, looking around warily, holding her own gun, apparently ready to fight.

Dean frowned as his ears picked up the sound of something moving just outside the train. He took a step forward, opening his mouth to shout a warning, but was cut off as something clawed through the train door and scratched Matt's arm.

Matt let out a cry of pain. Dean took his chance, and fired at the monster, gritting his teeth against the pain.

The other woman fired at the same time, and the creature let out what might have been a scream. It disappeared from view, but Dean knew that it hadn't been killed. "If it's wounded, it's going to be even more dangerous," he muttered to the woman. He raised his voice to Matt: "You all right?"

Matt was clutching at his shoulder, but he nodded to Dean's question, although he looked quite pale.

Dean and the other woman weren't given a chance to do anything else as something long and thick whipped through the gap in the doors. He fired, but before the creature could pull its tongue back, the woman stabbed it with a metal pole. "Close the doors!" she yelled.

Matt had already begun moving. As Dean turned, he saw that Rain was on her feet, and, as he watched, her eyes became dull and lifeless. She went for Dean, snarling viciously, trying to bite his neck.

Dean grappled with the zombie, trying to push her off him without getting bitten again. As he shoved her away, a shot echoed from behind him, hitting the zombie in the forehead. Rain was driven back by the force of it, and she hit one of the switches. Dean assumed that it was the door mechanism, since he could hear a snarl and the sound of something thumping shut behind him.

* * *

Matt and the woman stepped out of the train, Dean following close behind even as he kept on his guard against the appearance of more zombies – or the same creature from before. As they made their way up the steps, the entrance began to close behind them.

As soon as they entered the hall of the mansion, the blonde woman collapsed, the shock apparently getting to her. Matt reached out for her, at the same time looking up at Dean as if for help.

Dean took a step forward, and then took note of the way Matt winced, and how the wound on his shoulder seemed to be changing. "He's mutating. You have to give him the antivirus." Even as he spoke, Dean's head jerked up, as he was pretty sure he heard something. He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

The woman nodded. "Yes…" She immediately reached for the box, and started to remove one of the tubes. "We can't let anyone else enter the Hive…"

At that moment, the doors of the mansion burst open, and a whole group of people wearing white coats and masks entered. As they headed towards the group, Dean instantly got between them and Matt. The group made him think too much of scientists – and he had the feeling that if he didn't stop them from interfering, they wouldn't let Matt get the antivirus. Since the kid had helped him with zombie Rain, Dean sort of owed him.

"Out of the way," one of the scientists said to Dean.

Dean didn't say anything, and simply let his fists and feet do the talking, taking out all of his frustrations out on the group. He had no hope of getting all of them – but he wanted to buy Matt some time, at least.

And by the time Dean was subdued, it looked as though they had succeeded.

As the blonde woman pulled Matt to his feet, Dean had the strangest feeling that his spirit was being separated from his body.


End file.
